Tri. Then shall I be the happiest of Quakers, for I will straight unto my father, and ask him to give this damsel to me in marriage, for my spirit doth incline unto her.-Yea, I say it doth, as it were, move towards her.-Oh! I'm so happy, I could dance [Dances], and I could jump!-No, I must not jump-Quakers do not jump. No, verily, I must not be a jumping Quaker. [Exit, L.

Enter OLD FICKLE and BRIEFWIT, R.

Old F. (c.) Oh dear! oh dear! What a dreadful thing it is to be in company with a man who won't talk. Mr. Briefwit.

Bri. (R. c.) Sir.

Old F. I find I have given you a great deal of trouble in this business, to no purpose.

Bri. True.

Old F. My son has made a fool of me.

Bri. Very true.

Old F. I wish you would take the trouble to give him

a little good advice.

Bri. I am a lawyer, not a physician.

Old F. It is a pity that he is so unsteady.

Bri. Doubtless.

Old F. What must I do with him?

Bri. Do?

Old F. Ay,-what do you think he is fit for?
Bri. Bedlam.

Old F. I would send him thither, but the place is filled with your clients.

Bri. Good.

Old F. What an impenetrable hunks it is!-Pray, were you ever found guilty of laughing?

Bri. I often laugh.

Old F. Where, pray?

Bri. In my sleeve-good.

Enter SNEER, L.

Sne. Sir, my master will wait on you directly.

Bri. What!

[Alarmed.

[Going, R.

Sne. Oh, sir, he is quiet enough now.

Old F. He is come to his senses, is he?

Sne. That is rather doubtful, sir; but he is very harmless.

Old F. Will he stick to the law?

Sne. I should suppose so, sir, for he has just got into a fresh suit.

Enter TRISTRAM, L., in the dress of a Quaker

Oid F. (R. C.) What is here?-May I believe my eyes? Tri. (c.) If they tell thee that thou seest before thee one of the faithful, verily thou mayest believe what they say, for they speak unto thee that which is true.

Old F. And you are turned Quaker?

Tri. Yea, a damsel hath wrought my conversion--yeas a fair damsel.-Wilt thou give thy consent that I espouse her, and make her a thing of my own?

Old F. [To Briefwit.] You are right. Bedla'n is the only place for him.

Bri. Id certum est.

Sne. [Aside.] He looks as if he had a strait waistcoat on already.

Tri. Verily, I do expect the damsel to join with me in the request, that we two may be made one.

Old F. And verily I do expect a damsel here to join in a laugh against a blockhead. Have done with this mummery!

Tri. Be not a scoffer, I pray.

Enter VARIELLA, R., in her first dress.

Old F. Now it's all settled.-There, my dear, look there; that is the precious youth I intended for your husband.

Var. What, that!-Ha! ha! ha!-Why, surely, that is a pasteboard man.-It is not alive.

Old F. Ha! ha! ha-Only look at him.

Var. Can't you make him dance by pulling a string? Tri. How ridiculous I look!-What a heavenly creature she is!-I would give a thousand pounds I were out of the room, or out of this dress.-What a magnificent being!-Is this the woman I have slighted, to run about after hurdygurdy girls and Quakers ?— Oh, what a fool am I-I'll go and hang myself.

[Retires up, and, with his back to the audience, begins to alter the appearance of his dress, &c.

Var. I declare it absolutely speaks.-Won't you introduce me, sir?

Old F. Miss Variella, the gentleman in the broadbrim, and the drab suit, who stands twirling his thumbs, is my son.

[Tristram turns round and assumes the air of a buck, by haring drawn his coat up, turning back the skirts, covering part of his chin with his neckcloth, and converting his broad-brimmed hut into an opera hat, and wearing it under his arm.

Tri. [Comes down.] Madam, the-the joy-the pleasure, madam, the confusion, this meeting affords me is-unutterable.-Yes, madam, I assure you it is unutterable. [Traversing the stage, and bowing— turns to his father.] How d'ye do! How d'ye do!

Old F. So, so! the Quaker is dropped already.

Var. How many fine things of this sort have you said to-day, sir?

Tri. To-day, madam? I forget.

Var. Forget so soon!

Tri. I forget every thing that ever passed in my life. Old F. I wish I could, too.

Tri. For, while I gaze on those charms, every former impression fades before them.

Var. (c.) Then I must refresh your memory, sir.

[Sings a strain of her last air. Tri. (L. c.) Amazement !-What do I hear?

Var. [Mimicking him.] "These are no mortal sounds -no, thou art a divinity, and I must kneel in token of my adoration."

Tri. Madam! [Confused.] How you became acquainted with so ridiculous a circumstance it is impossible for me to divine; but you must recollect that

Var. That you neither liked her squinting, her squalling, nor her snub nose.

Tri. She is a fairy! What can I say?

Var. You must say, "Wear in thy bosom, I beseech thee, this emblem of thyself; and, when it begins to droop and wither, let it remind thee that even so I sicken till I behold thee again."-" Before a leaf fades, I will be in thy presence,-farewell." And here I am, to return thee thy present, that thou mayst give it to the maiden of thy choice,-Hum! [Returns him the rose.

Tri. You then have assumed these different characters to laugh at my folly; but you surely would not have

taken so much pains to correct one totally indifferent to you. And since, in my very wanderings, I have shown my constancy to one attachment, may I not hope for a favourable interpretation, if I present you this flower?

Old F. Admirably spoken! My boy's come to his senses again.

Var. Rather say he is just about to lose them, for I feel a strange inclination to accept his present. Yes, I believe I must. [She places the flower in her bosom. Tri. My future endeavour shall be to deserve such happiness.

Old F. I am overjoyed!-What say you, Mr. Briefwit? Is my boy mad now?

Bri. No; but perhaps he soon may be. [He joins their hands.] Good.

DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE FALL OF THE CURTAIN.

BRIEFWIT.

R.]

VARIELLA. TRISTRAM. OLD FICKLE.

L.]